


Snowstorm and Chill

by Corvin



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Pre-Relationship, mentioned Merlee, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:58:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvin/pseuds/Corvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy goes to help out one of his dads' friends. Expecting to find an old man, he's confronted with Harry Hart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowstorm and Chill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blacktofade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktofade/gifts).



> Tried to mix two of the prompts after I somehow forgot literally all of them and freestyled. It wouldn't do. I apologize, but see if you can spot the Peep Show quote. 
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Eggsy could admit when something was his fault. He would have followed it up with an example of a time when something was wrong so that his inner dialogue could lead into an internal rant, but he was too fucking cold.

Oh, that worked nicely.

The weather was not Eggsy’s fault. Therefore, he didn’t understand why he, a fully grown adult, was shoveling snow out of someone’s yard. Pocket money, his dad had said. He could earn pocket money for at uni by cleaning up some old geezer’s yard.

Eggsy was sure Lee had just been relieved to foist the job onto someone else. Eggsy had arrived home two nights ago to a quick hug, then a story about someone named Harry Hart getting in an accident and needing a bit of help around the house.

“I was going to do it,” Lee had sighed. “I owe him a lot, you know. He introduced Merlin and me, but I’ve been called in for extra hours on account of the season.”

It was likely enough, but Eggsy didn’t think about that while he was battling the elements. Some old friends of his parents _would_ need ‘a bit of help’ during some of the heaviest snowfall they’d seen in years. Eggsy grew up in London, he was used to rain. He could handle anything from a drizzle to a storm, but the snow had always seemed like an enemy.

He kicked the large mound he’d built irritably. How was one back-garden so much fucking work? An hour ago it had felt nearly done, but there was almost a full blanket of white in all the places he’d cleared. It would be just his luck if there was a blizzard or summat.

“Excuse me.”

Eggsy startled, dropping the shovel. The back door was open, and a man was leaning in the doorway, sipping from a mug.

When Eggsy had first arrived no one had answered the door. So he’d simply started his chores in hopes of getting out of there before lunch. At that point he wasn’t even sure of the time. But Eggsy still straightened his posture, aware that his dad was fond of this man. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was home. Er, I’m Eggsy, Lee’s son?”

The man, or Harry as Lee called him, smiled benignly. He definitely wasn’t the geezer Eggsy had expected. Although he was as posh, looking more polished while disheveled in a robe than Eggsy did at literally any point in his life.

“I must have been sleeping when you came.” He looked around the yard, and then at the pile near Eggsy. “Have you been working long?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy admitted. “It just keeps coming down.”

“It’ll do that.” Harry stepped further back, holding the door open. “Would you like to take a break?”

Eggsy shuffled his feet. The thought of being inside and warm was tempting, even if he was hanging out with his dad’s new friend who was disarmingly fit. “Cheers,” He said, climbing the steps. “Freezing my tits off.”

Harry snorted a laugh and closed the back door.

There was already a teapot on the dining table, as well as a plate of various biscuits. Eggsy eyed it longingly, but waited for Harry to invite him to sit.

“So,” Eggsy stirred cream and sugar cubes into the teacup Harry had set before him. “My dad says you were in an accident?”

The verbiage brought ‘car accident’ to Eggsy’s mind, but Harry didn’t have a visible mark on him. 

“There was an explosion.” Eggsy almost choked on his tea, but Harry continued. “I was in a coma for a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Eggsy blinked. “Shit.”

“Oh shit.” Harry agreed.

“Why were you in an explosion?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “It was hardly on purpose, Eggsy.”

He honestly wasn’t sure what to say to that. Eggsy cleared his throat, looking for another topic. “Glad you’re okay after all though.”

“Oh so am I.” Harry drank from his mug, which made Eggsy feel a bit silly for using a teacup. “I imagine Merlin would have resurrected me to kill me again for saddling him with Mr. Pickle.”

“What.”

“We have a deal. If I die he has to take my dog. If he dies I have to avenge his death.”

Eggsy was starting to see how his dad had managed to befriend these posh blokes. He nodded, playing along. “And what if he dies of natural causes?”

Harry shook his head. “He won’t.”

Tea, biscuits, and a clear nutter talking nonsense; Eggsy had a brief mental image of wearing a blue dress and a white apron. Still, as far as impromptu tea times went, Eggsy enjoyed himself until Harry declared it late.

“I still haven’t finished outside,” Eggsy said, gesturing towards the backdoor.

“Nonsense, it’s been snowing since last night. You won’t finish at all today.” Harry pressed a final biscuit into his hand. “I’d rather you were home before it gets dark.”

“You do realize I’m twenty years old?” Eggsy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t need chocolate chips and to watch the lamp posts.”

Harry still shooed him out, and Eggsy went obediently. He would have had to return anyway to clear snow off the grass. The reason apparently being that Mr. Pickle would need to go out, but refused to walk on snow.

 

 

The following day, Eggsy wore two pairs of gloves to help protect his hands. Once again Harry didn’t answer the door, but Eggsy understood. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to explode, and then wake up in a hospital weeks later.

He started next to the steps, and started working his way out. Every now and then double checking to make sure there was a clear spot for Mr. Pickle. The snow was even deeper, but slushy and wet and horrible.

Eggsy nearly ran inside when Harry opened the door again.

There was a steaming bowl of soup waiting on the table when Harry led him inside. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty. It seemed terribly rude to only offer you sweets, yesterday.”

“S’alright, I love sweets.” But Eggsy also loved whatever he’d started shoveling into his mouth. “This potato soup?”  

“Easier to make.” Harry nodded. “Well, easier once you’ve peeled and diced the potatoes.”

“Is it?” Eggsy didn’t know how to make potato soup, but he was enjoying the taste.

“Not really.”

Harry’s hair was shorter that day, still disheveled and loosely curling. Eggsy wondered what he might look like in a suit as opposed to his red dressing gown. He hummed while Harry launched into an explanation of preparing proper potato soup. He had a nice voice, and he spoke with a tone that was enthusiastic as opposed to talking at Eggsy.

Eggsy looked into his bowl, holding back a frown but not a pang of discomfort. Recognizing that Harry had the sort of looks that drew every eye in the room was one thing. _Noticing_ his dads’ friend was another entirely.

What would be worse, if Lee was thrilled or horrified?

Harry fell silent, but when Eggsy looked up he was staring at the window. “Alright, Harry?”

“Yes, just,” he gestured for Eggsy to turn around.

The curtains were only open a sliver, but Eggsy could see that the wind had kicked up, and it was like looking at a static telly. Was a fucking blizzard on the 20th of December supposed to be a cosmic joke about a white Christmas? “Should I go?”

“I should think not,” Harry said dryly. “I’m going to check the weather report. Finish your food, there’s more in the kitchen.”

Eggsy turned back to his bowl, but he looked at his mobile before he started eating again. No new texts, but he still had a signal.

Harry had retrieved his tablet and was muttering under his breath as he swiped across the screen. “18cm of snow over the next few hours; apparently quite a storm has taken us by surprise.”

“We gonna be snowed in?” Eggsy had already begun to compose a text to his dad.

“Possibly. I do have a guest bedroom if it comes to that.” Harry set his tablet on the table. “I apologize that this happened today.”

“Ain’t your fault,” Eggsy shrugged. “I was going to be here every day this week anyway.”

Trapped in a house during a snowstorm wasn’t his ideal, but at least Harry was decent company. He tucked into his soup again. “Do you have any board games or anything?”

“… I have a television.”

“That sounds great,” Eggsy picked up his bowl, almost ready for seconds. “Let’s do that.”

 

 

Harry lit a roaring fire, and had no visible qualms with Eggsy eating on his sofa. Eggsy had worried at first, when he saw no DVDs or consoles under the mounted flat screen, but then Harry revealed his digital library.

“Wow,” Eggsy breathed for the umpteenth time. “Holy shit, Harry.”

“Scrabble,” Harry scoffed with no heat. “How old do you think I am?”

Despite the rhetorical question Eggsy still eyed him up and down. How old did Harry look? He was handsome but refined, but also posh so that might add a few years. He looked like he might have a little grey, but his hair was so fluffy. “Forty?” Eggsy guessed.

“Close.” Harry held up five fingers.

“Liar.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Eggsy grinned, but he couldn’t break eye contact. Twenty-five years was a hell of an age difference. The sort of thing people had to have a certain kink for, Eggsy thought. He licked his lips, and he knew Harry noticed. It may have been more flirtatious than he’d meant to be.

Eggsy looked away and picked a movie with familiar actors.

“Oh, Trading Places, excellent.”    

 

As far was charged moments went, that one had been brief and vague. But Eggsy found that he was focusing far more on it than the Eddie Murphy on screen. It was barely a scenario in his mind, more tiny little snippets of what if.

What if Harry was attractive, and charming, and kind of a weird fucker? What if he had an interest in Eggsy as well? What if they knew each other a bit longer?

Eggsy watched Harry’s profile in his periphery. What if Harry was open to the idea of two almost-strangers having a snog during a snowstorm? That happened in films all the time, so it had to be a good idea. They couldn’t put bad ideas in films, they’d be sued.

“Would you rather watch something else?”

He blinked out of his daze, and Harry was looking at him. “What?”

“You aren’t watching the movie.” Harry glanced briefly to the side, possibly noticing that Eggsy wasn’t touching the bowl of soup he’d brought along. “We can find something else if you’d prefer.”

Eggsy considered turning it off, he’d lost track of the plot fairly quickly because he’d been staring at Harry. But he shook his head, “This is fine.”

“You’re thinking loudly,” Harry pressed. He reached for the remote and paused the movie, before turning fully to Eggsy to give him his full attention.

Eggsy opened his mouth with an excuse on the tip of his tongue, but then he closed it. They were both adults, and Harry seemed to be in good health; Eggsy had to know what Harry would say. He chewed on his lip, and finally said, “Have you ever heard of Netflix and Chill?”

Whatever reaction he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been Harry looking at the movie with a disappointed expression.

He started to backpedal when Harry sighed. “It’s really a very decent film.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t misunderstand,” Harry looked back at him. “You’re a horribly tempting young man. And yes I know what ‘Netflix and chill’ is.”

Eggsy smiled slowly. “If I promise to watch it after, can we make out?”

“If I can buy you dinner once this bloody storm is over.”

“Deal.”  


End file.
